


Between

by babybrotherdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s12e22 Who We Are, Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 15:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10947618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: A few small pieces post-finale. Brothers, basically.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write stuff and. ?? write stuff, I did.
> 
> First prompt was just "CAN U WRITE A BROTHER THING MAYBE" so here is. A brother thing.

For a few precious hours, they have peace.

Dean figures this is just the calm before the storm that rests on the horizon, with the threat of Lucifer’s return sitting heavy on their shoulders, but it doesn’t seem to matter right now. Right now, they’re safe; they’re cocooned in a tiny bubble of unreality they’ve carved out for themselves, between the bodies that still lay on the bunker’s floor and the message they’ve left for the London chapter of the Men of Letters.

_You shouldn’t have come here._

_Leave us alone._

_Be afraid._

And now, finally, they get to rest. It’s just the two of them, curled up real careful in Dean’s bed because his leg is a damn mess and Sam’s still fretting over it, but the important part is the bit where they’re _together._ Separating is never easy, especially with the possibility that one of them won’t come back, but it’s behind them, and Sam’s safe and whole in his arms, and Dean can finally breathe again.

They did it. They really did it.

“You think they’ll tell stories about this one?” he hums. Turns his face into Sam’s neck and closes his eyes, breathing in the heartbeat that he feels soft and steady under his lips. Keeps talking, real soft. “How Sam Winchester rallied together a rag-tag group of hunters and took down the Brits?”

Sam laughs at him, and his arms curl a little tighter around Dean’s middle, tucking him in close. They’re breathing as a unit, drinking in every moment they’ve got of this in the tiny break they’ve given themselves to rest up before moving forward. They’re only human, after all. “You know how they are. They’ll tell stories about a funny-looking wendigo if they can get anyone to listen.”

“Maybe.” Dean smiles, then breathes out slowly. Allows himself this moment to bask in the victory, because _fuck_ if they haven’t earned it. They deserve to feel good about this, at least for a little while. “I think it’s a better story than most. You gave ‘em something to remember, Sammy. Something to share. I don’t think anybody’s gonna be forgetting what you did any time soon.”

Sam’s quiet, but it’s a good kind of quiet. The kind that means Sam’s all warm inside, maybe even blushing a little. Doesn’t do it as much as he used to, these days, but it’s a damn sight when it does happen. “Could be.”

Dean thinks about that as they drift off together, the name that Sam’s made for himself tonight. Maybe he won’t need to be the boy with the demon blood anymore, or the hunter who let Lucifer out of his cage. Maybe he’ll be able to leave behind every bad thing that people have learned to tie to his name, and maybe they’ll remember him the way that he deserves to be remembered.

Maybe, if they’re real lucky, people will remember Sam as a leader and as a hero. God knows that it’s the very least he deserves. 

RIght now, though, Dean just gives his brother what little he can. He gives him a pair of arms to hold him, and a couple dry kisses to the front of his throat, and somebody to hold while he falls asleep. A heartbeat to listen to and a warm body to soothe him. 

It isn’t much, but for now, it’s going to have to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Can I put in a soft poke towards one about Sam helping patch Dean up between the epic grenade explosion and them leaving to help Jody?"

“You’re lucky you’re even alive,” Sam tells him, but it’s in that breathless near-laughter way that’s more exhilaration and adrenaline and relief than anything resembling unhappiness. “This is- this is insane. It actually worked.”

And Dean just grins, wide and happy, even past the wince as Sam works at his leg. It’s messy and it hurts, but they’re _alive._ Against all odds, they’ve gotten themselves this tiny victory, and Dean clings to it with everything he’s got. “’Course it worked,” he says, and he leans back in his seat, tipping his head back to look up at the bunker’s vaulted ceilings, tracing out their details idly. Takes a quiet moment to feel relieved that they haven’t lost this place. Not yet. “Told you that thing would come in handy.”

Sam laughs, and his hand smooths down Dean’s good leg, an absent bit of comfort. “Yeah, yeah. You finally got your big explosion.”

“Gonna be a bitch to clean up.” It’s the least of their concerns right now, but Dean wrinkles his nose slightly. It’s nice to have something else to think about for the moment; something that’s relatively mundane in the face of what they’re about to walk into. “Gotta redo the whole thing… maybe paint it a nicer colour this time. We really gotta just remodel this whole place. Bring it into the twenty-first century.”

He can just about hear Sam roll his eyes while he gets the gaze in place and starts wrapping it all up. Dean peeks down at him, just for the sake of seeing the barely-there smile that his brother is wearing. “Sure, Dean. Whatever you say.”

Dean stays quiet for a moment as he watches, then just smiles again, still feeling like he’s riding the last dregs of his adrenaline as he breathes out a soft laugh. “That was… I mean, that was completely-”

“Awesome?” Sam guesses, eyebrows raised when he glances up.

Dean’s smile grows even further, and he gives a firm nod, settling back once more and closing his eyes while Sam finishes up with his leg. Not quite good as new, but he’ll live with it.

“ _Awesome_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brothers being soft and dumb.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "*whispers* for brother thing? Maybe Dean's upsetty spaghetti, rly defeated, Sam comforts him, dean was his father, mother, brother, and best friend, and now Sam wants to give back as his lover? (love you and your work so much)"
> 
> Upsetty spaghetti, indeed.

They were so damn close.

For a few seconds there, standing in the wasteland of that alternate reality, it had really looked like they were going to win. Lucifer would be locked up forever in a parallel world, left to deal with the post-apocalyptic Hell he’d always wanted. Their world would be safe, with the only concern left being to take care of the nephilim child, something that Cas had been preparing for over the last several weeks. Mom was back, the Brits were out of the way, and things were all lined up to be _happy._

They were so close, and Sam thinks that it’s the very reason why it hurt so fucking much to watch everything collapse.

They’re home, now. The drive had been silent, both of them numb and empty after their failure. Cas’ body went up in flames along with Kelly. Jack, the child, had fled shortly after Sam had found him, lost in the wind now and too far out of their reach to try to help. 

He doesn’t think about Mom. He doesn’t want to think about Mom.

Sam follows Dean to his room because he doesn’t want to be alone right now, and because he doesn’t trust his brother to be, either. They still haven’t said a word to each other, but Dean doesn’t make any sign of protest when Sam crawls into bed after him, wrapping Dean up tight in his arms and trying to remember how he’s supposed to breathe past the overwhelming grief.

He can’t fathom the number of people they’ve lot today. Especially not after the win again the Brits; they’re never allowed to be happy for long, and it seems like the universe is constantly determined to screw them out of whatever kind of peace they find for themselves. It isn’t fair, and it never has been, and the numbness tries to come creeping back into his chest, settling in deep and giving him a quiet sense of safety. Escape.

Dean is trembling in his arms, and Sam thinks that his brother is probably crying. That’s shocking enough in itself, after years of watching him express grief through anger and violent repression, but more than that, he presses back hard into Sam’s body, seeking out the contact, and that’s just-

Dean hasn’t had a chance to tell him everything, quite yet. About being in Mom’s head with her, talking her down from the brainwashing. Sam tries to imagine it, and all he can think about is how hard Dean fought for her, tooth and nail to bring her back to them, and now she-

Don’t think about Mom. _Don’t._

“We’ll get her back,” he whispers, throat feeling raw, and Dean shudders hard. “We just- we’ll get her, okay? We have to.”

But then there’s Cas, too, and he seems a little harder to fix. Their angel who Dean believed in, despite everything. Who he clung to no matter how hard Cas tried to push them away.

Sam can’t think about any of it right now. Not when his mind is rebelling so violently against it, threatening to shut down altogether if he tries to comprehend the losses they’ve just suffered.

Instead, he thinks, as Dean curls small and vulnerable against him, still not speaking, tears wet on his cheeks when Sam’s fingertips brush against freckled skin, that for now, it’ll just be easier to focus on Dean. To take care of his big brother, after Dean’s fought for decades to take care of him.

At the very least, it’ll give him something to pour himself into that won’t break him on contact.

So he holds Dean there, curled up in bed together, the both of them too lost and too broken to do very much more. Sam whispers to him, telling pretty lies about how everything is going to be okay. That no matter what happens, no matter what they suffer or how high the cost, they _will_ fix this. They will fix this the same way that they’ve fixed everything before. 

The words taste bittersweet on his tongue, and he tries hard not to linger on the weight they put on his heart. Dean’s even breathing when he finally manages to fall asleep makes it easier to ignore, and for now, Sam just does his very best to bury everything, putting the breakdown he wants to have in a tiny box and locking it somewhere in the back of his mind to be dealt with later.

He knows better than most that it’s a dangerous way to deal with grief, but Dean needs him right now, and Sam is not above putting himself in danger for the sake of his big brother. Everything else can wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's fight with Lucifer goes a little differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was one bit when Dean was fighting Lucifer ("fighting" is a term I use very loosely) when he was on the ground and Lucifer straight-up curb-stomped his back, and all I could think of was Dean ending up paralyzed, at least for a short moment before Cas fixed him, and... well. I wrote a thing.
> 
> Sad. Pain.

Playing the distraction is familiar territory for Dean. He’s pulled the attention of werewolves, vampires, angels, demons, and everything in between, all for the sake of buying someone else-usually his family- a few extra seconds of time. He’s good at it, and he’s well-aware of the fact, and he uses it to his advantage whenever he gets the chance.

This time around, it’s a little different, because this time around, he’s distracting Lucifer.

And Lucifer is angry. Lucifer is petty and vengeful, and Dean and his brother have been doing their very best to ruin his plans and take away his soon-to-be-born son. Lucifer is the strongest archangel alive, and Dean is a soft, fragile human being.

Lucifer makes that very clear to him very quickly.

It’s not a fight so much as it is a matter of Dean being thrown around the apocalyptic hellscape and Lucifer mocking him all the while. It’s bruises, and it’s breathing in the ashes that litter the ground, and it’s every inch of his body being in pain within seconds. He tries his damnedest to put up a fight, but it’s like that day in Stull Cemetery all over again, with Lucifer’s intent very clear- he’s going to kill Dean, and he’s going to take his damn time about it.

“What’s the matter, Dean? Getting tired?” It’s condescending and cruel, and Dean’s on the ground again, breathing hard and trying to talk his body into standing again. It’s getting harder every time, and he prays that Sam and Crowley are nearly finished with the spell. He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this for. Lucifer’s there, suddenly, and Dean gets a swift kick to the ribs that has him groaning, fingertips scrabbling uselessly at the barren earth as he tries in vain to defend himself. “Maybe you should just… take a hint. When I put you down like that, I really think you should just stay there.”

What happens next is so fast that Dean thinks he’d have missed it altogether if it weren’t for the flash of pain and the sickening crunch that comes with it. And it leaves him gasping, leaves him struggling as if that’ll get him anywhere when Lucifer’s resting all his weight now on Dean’s lower back, and- and there’s too much sensation and not enough, because he’s sure those pinpricks are bone shards cutting into the soft bits of him, but when he tries to struggle, he feels a thousand pounds heavier, and he’s not going anywhere, and Lucifer won’t stop laughing at him-

Things get hazy for a few seconds as Crowley and Sam return and Dean spits the blood out of his mouth, ash and copper and decay heavy on his tongue. And he can hear Lucifer speaking as he backs off, turning his attention to Crowley, but Dean doesn’t understand the words, all of his focus narrowing to the fact that Sam’s rushed to his side and he’s trying to help Dean up, and Dean tries so damn hard to stand, but-

But his legs aren’t moving.

“Dean?” Sam whispers to him, low and panicked, and his brother’s a strong guy, but Dean’s all deadweight and he feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “Dean, c'mon, we gotta go.”

And Dean doesn’t know what to tell him, because he can’t stand up and it’s going to cost the both of them their lives.

“Sammy,” Dean says, and that’s all he manages, trying so damn hard to push himself upright and to pretend like he can’t feel the disconnect in his spine. “Sammy, I- I can’t-”

But Sam doesn’t listen, and Sam hauls him right to his feet, deadweight and all, and Dean just- Dean clings, because it’s terrifying, and he wraps his arms tight around his brother and tries to force his legs to move, and they don’t listen to him, and Sam’s dragging them both back towards the portal while Crowley deals with Lucifer.

Watching Castiel appear through it before they make it all the way isn’t part of the plan, and Dean nearly falls.

“Cas? Cas, don’t- no!”

Cas doesn’t quite look his way. Sam keeps dragging him, and Dean can’t fight against it as he watches his best friend approach the devil, and then they’re stumbling back into the reality they know and Dean does fall, that time, nearly hits the ground if not for Sam’s reflexes.

“Dean?” Sam whispers to him, but then Cas is in front of him again, and he reaches out, barely- takes one look at Dean and he’s got to know something’s wrong- and his fingertips barely meet Dean’s forehead, and he glows gold for a fraction of a second before the angel blade pierces his chest and he’s enveloped with blinding white.

Dean feels his spine try to stitch itself back together, but he slips out of his brother’s grip and he hits the ground for real that time, and nothing is fixed.

Mom slips through their fingers moments later, and Sam’s scrabbling for a grip on Dean’s jacket, trying to say something, trying to string words together in a way that will justify the people they just lost, and Dean can’t-

Dean feels numb again, and he can’t bring himself to stand, and he doesn’t know yet if he’s even able, and he doesn’t…

“No.”

He can’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this, but. Thanks for reading?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
